


extra scenes from 'i am broken'

by sodelicate



Series: the blue crows (and cats, and owls) [BCCO] [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-05 08:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodelicate/pseuds/sodelicate
Summary: A compilation of one-shots set in the universe of the Blue Crows (and Cats, and Owls)—prequels, sequels, extra stories set in the same timeline as 'i am broken'. Will contain major spoilers from 'i am broken'.





	1. you can't take my youth away (this soul of mine will never break)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is about to leave for Operation Kitagawa Daiichi, and he has a bad feeling about it. He asks Kenma to help him remember everything that will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: **post-traumatic stress and mentions of bullying**
> 
> title of this chapter is from Shawn Mendes and Khalid's 'Youth'.

“We have an announcement from the king and queen,” General Nekomata says, reading off a roll of script. He pauses to salute to the northeast, where the palace is. “With the bombing of the Dateko district, Emperor Kai of Kitagawa Daiichi has declared war against our country. Their orders are to send the Elite Squad, which is all of you assembled here, to Kitagawa Daiichi to deal with this threat. You are to assemble promptly at the docks at midnight tonight. You have six hours to say your goodbyes to your family and loved ones. Dismissed.” 

“Yes sir!”

After the warriors fall out of their ranks, Kuroo turns to address his unit, Unit Kitten. He chose that name when he was appointed captain is very proud of it. Even though his teammates hate it with a passion. Oh well, not everyone can have nice things. 

“You guys know what you need to do and bring, don't you?” he says. “So just say all your necessary goodbyes and make sure you’re at the docks ten minutes before the actual reporting time, got it?”

It’s one of those strange military things. If the officers say to report at five, the warriors are to be there by four-fifty _latest_. Kuroo had to learn this fast to make sure his unit didn't get into trouble.

They chorus a determined yes.

He grins. “Alright then. I’ll see you crazy cats at the docks tonight, then. Dismissed.”

His grin slips off his face as he all but sprints out of the hall in his hurry to return home. Try as he might, he can't shake off a _very_ bad feeling about this whole thing. The general is purposely withholding information, he can tell. And since he can't think of any reason why Nekomata would want to withhold information, he can only guess that it’s a game-changer—if the warriors knew it before officially leaving for Kitagawa Daiichi, this might cause them to change their minds and decide not to go to Kitagawa Daiichi.

And he has a feeling that whatever this is, the higher-ups wouldn't want them to have any recollection of it.

It’s a completely wild guess he's taking, but he has always trusted his gut. His gut saved him countless times during fights, helped him figure out when Kenma was upset but didn't want to tell him and aided him in mastering Animal Metamorphosis. There’s something fishy about this mission, and he doesn't want to be duped into forgetting what it is.

He drops by his home first to bid his family a goodbye. What he actually wants to say “See you later”, but he doesn't know if he _will_ come back alive. It would be kinder not to give them any false hope.

His mother frowns. “Tetsu, you don't have to go. You're only a child; the military shouldn't be using children to fight their battles.”

Kuroo knows. He knows how painfully young he and all the other Elite Squad warriors are. He’s not even old enough to drink yet. Some of his teammates are still too young to even consent to sex. Yet here they are, being ordered to risk their lives for the kingdom the way warriors twice their age do. They have their reasons—some desperately need the money, some are in it for the prestige, and some want a guaranteed spot in the official army when they become old enough to join.

For Kuroo—he wants the strength to be able to protect those close to him, and when he joined the Academy he figured the Elite Squad would give him the strength to do exactly that.

You see, years ago, his younger brother Hibiki was being bullied at elementary school. According to Hibiki, it started as malicious teasing, but it soon became physical. Kuroo walked out of school one day and saw him curled up on the ground while the other kids were beating and kicking the life out of him. Kuroo tried to fight off the bullies, but he hadn't hit his growth spurt yet so some of them were bigger than he was. He ended up getting hurt too—too hurt to properly defend his brother. Eventually, a teacher broke the fight up and sent them to the nurse to get their injuries checked. He couldn't stop blaming himself: if only he had known earlier, if only he was stronger, faster, bigger. Then his baby brother wouldn't have gotten hurt.

Now, he knows how to fight. He has won spars against two-meter tall giants. If he had this strength when his brother was being bullied, the bullies would have scampered off with their tails between their legs—or sent to the hospital, because he knows he would fuck up anyone who hurt his loved ones real bad. And the cost is becoming the military’s dog. But really, he knows it’s but a small price. If it means he can keep the people he loves safe, he will sacrifice his freedom again and again.

“I have to,” he says simply. “It’s what I signed up for.”

His father sighs. He's more aware than anyone else that Kuroo has taken after his stubborn streak, so he most likely knows better than to try and change Kuroo’s mind. He just claps his son’s shoulder. “Just—please promise us you'll stay safe, okay? I know your job is to keep this stupid country safe, but don't forget to look after yourself too.”

“Mmm, will do.”

He treads upstairs to Hibiki’s room. The door is open, surprisingly. Hibiki tends to keep his door closed most, if not all, of the time. After the bullying, he has never been quite the same. He's become more closed-off to the whole world. He barely talks during family meals, and when he does his voice is small, like he's afraid he’d get hit if he speaks too loud. It rips Kuroo apart, but there's only so much he can do to protect Hibiki.

“Hibiki—”

“I know,” he says quietly, not meeting Kuroo’s eyes. “I heard.”

“Oh.”

“… It’s because of me, isn't it?”

Kuroo stares blankly at him. “What's ‘cause of you?”

“You became a dog of the military ‘cause you blame yourself what happened to me. ‘Cause I was too weak to protect myself.”

Kuroo’s gaze lowers to the ground. Hibiki hit the mark spot-on, but he doesn't want to admit that. Instead, he just says, “I want to protect everyone. You, mom, dad, Kenma—everyone. That's why I'm doing this. So—yeah, I just wanna say goodbye. Bye, Hibiki. Be… be good, okay?”

Hibiki still doesn't meet his eyes, and it hurts. Kuroo wants to say, _I'm going to be away for god knows how long, and I might DIE, but you won't look at me?_

But he can't. He doesn't want Hibiki to close up anymore.

“Yeah, sure.”

Kuroo falters. There’s so much more he should say— _“You're not weak; you were bullied and you survived.”; “Why don't you open up to me anymore?”; “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. Will you forgive me?”_ —but then Hibiki slips under his covers, which he pulls right over his head, signalling the end of their conversation.

He slumps dejectedly down the stairs. Right at the foot, he takes a deep breath. He forces his shoulders back, his chin up and a confident smile on his face. This might be the last time his parents see him. He doesn't want the last image they have of him to be one of defeat, of weakness.

“I'm heading to Kenma’s for a while,” he announces. “I’ll be back right before I have to leave for—for that.”

His parents nod and wave him off to the door. If they have any protests, their faces betray nothing. 

Now, Kuroo _could_ always just walk up to Kenma’s front door and knock like any good boyfriend. But he spots Kenma’s open window on the second floor. He smirks, knowing how he's going to enter his boyfriend’s room.

 

* * *

 

“How many times do I have to ask you to use the door?” 

Kuro grins. “You can ask all you want, but I’ll always find the most the most unconventional way to enter your house, like a cat.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “As long as you don't try to scent me again.” 

“Now, I can't promise that. I have to mark my territory, after all.” Kuroo drapes himself on Kenma’s bed and pulls him down into a hug.

“You’re hugging tighter than usual. What's going on?” 

Kuroo grimaces, his previous cheer at seeing Kenma dissipating. He sits up and tells Kenma about everything—the announcement, as well as his fishy feeling about it.

Once he's done, Kenma just asks, “Do you _really_ have to go?”

He winces. “I wish I didn't have to, kitten. But you know what happens when duty calls.”

Kenma looks down. Although his expression remains neutral for the most part, Kuroo has known him long enough to see a glimmer of pain slip through the cracks. He leans down and gently kisses him, trying to convey all his feelings in just one kiss— _I don't want to go any more than you want me to. I want to stay here with you. But this war—they may strike home next. I have to do this. I have to protect you._

Kenma pulls away. His hands remain on Kuroo’s face, and he studies it carefully.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Kuroo asks.

“You—you want me to help you remember.” His voice is quiet, but Kuroo hears every word clearly, like he shouted them from the rooftops.

Kuroo nods. He’s lucky his boyfriend is smart. “Please.”

Kenma’s hand moves, as if to cast a spell; but then he hesitates. “Kuro… are you sure? You don't know what's going to happen. It might be—it might be better if you _don't_ remember.”

Kuroo pauses. Kenma does make a good point. Kuroo has gone on several small military missions before. While he acts like it was just a mission and it didn't affect him much, what he saw did damage his psyche a little. He still gets nightmares sometimes. And this thing, this _war_ , with Kitagawa Daiichi—it’s going to be on a larger scale than anything he has ever experienced.

But, he decides, just because he’s agreed to be a dog of the military doesn't mean he can't draw a line at how much he’s willing to be used.

“I want to,” he says. “I have to. I _need_ to remember, to remind myself than I'm more than just a mindless tool for the military to use. And… I can't explain how I know this, but I just do. I think they'll try to fuck with our memories. Like, they'll make us do whatever at Kitagawa Daiichi, then wipe all recollection of it.”

“Memory Alteration Magic. No doubt the military has some sorcerers powerful enough to perform it.”

“Yeah. So, can you? Help me remember, that is.”

Kenma sighs. “If I must.”

“Thanks, kitten. You're the best.” He presses a tender kiss against Kenma’s forehead.

Kenma pushes Kuroo away, though without much force. “I can't perform the spell if you're all up in my face. Stay there.”

Kenma gets up from the bed to stand in front of Kuroo. He rolls the sleeves of Kuroo’s sweater (it’s a little too big for him—how _adorable_ is that? Kuroo might just melt into a gooey puddle of love and hormones) up to his elbows. His eyes flash bright golden, as they always do when he’s about to perform a spell. Wispy gold tendrils surround Kuroo, wrapping him in an embrace that is neither hot nor cold. A strange sensation, like a mixture of ice cold and lava hot honey, washes through his body and mind. He blinks once, twice, and suddenly the whole world becomes just a little more focused. Everything seems to be in sharper definition. Huh, that's nice. It must be a side-effect of the spell.

“Done,” Kenma says. “I’ve layered the Memory Preservation Spell with a lot of Blocks, so they won't be able to detect that you even have the spell cast on you.”

Kuroo is confident that it will work. He's confident that not even the military’s best sorcerers would be able to detect the spell if Kenma says so, because Kenma is _the_ best.

“Thanks, kitten.”

Kenma crawls back on to the bed, snuggling against Kuroo’s side. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around Kenma’s waist. Kenma’s legs end up tangled with his. They lie there in a peaceful silence. The only thing Kuroo can hear is Kenma’s soft, steady breathing. Dread still courses through him at the thought of midnight tonight, but feeling Kenma against his body grounds him like an anchor to reality. While he's glad Kenma didn't join the Elite Squad with him (he's studying sorcery at a sorcerers’ academy in the district), part of him wishes he could bring Kenma with him, so at least he can have someone to keep him grounded.

Then again, he could _never_ put Kenma in that kind of danger. 

“Please come back,” Kenma mumbles into Kuroo’s chest. “Please come back to me, Kuro. Don't you dare die. If you—if something happens to you… I don't think I'd be able to handle it. Don't die for this country. Stay alive for me, please.”

Kuroo can feel his shirt becoming increasingly damp. He glances down, and Kenma still has his face hidden in Kuroo’s chest, as if to hide his tears. Seeing Kenma so vulnerable, seeing Kenma _cry_ , feels like a knife straight through the heart. His parents said the same thing, but he couldn't reassure them otherwise because he didn't want to falsely grant them something he wasn't sure he could deliver.

But if it’s Kenma, then it’s a whole other story.

“Okay. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Operation Kitagawa Daiichi (a really uncreative name, in Kuroo’s expert opinion) ends five days after it starts.

After a debrief at the Academy, Kuroo trudges back home. His footsteps are heavy, and his heart even heavier.

He remembers everything. And he almost wishes he doesn't.

He returns home and is nearly knocked off his feet by his mother’s tearful welcome. Hibiki and his father hang around behind, waiting for their turn.

“Oh Tetsu, my baby boy,” his mother sobs into his shoulder. He pats her back, hoping to comfort her. “You're alive. _You're alive._ I was so scared. You’re just a boy! Not even a man yet. How dare—how _dare_ they put children in a war? How dare they put _my_ baby in a war?! This god-forsaken military better be ready for one hell of a _fight_.”

“Don't underestimate me, dearest okaa-sama,” Kuroo drawls. But secretly, he's selfishly glad that she's so worked up about this. At least someone cares about the military forcing children to slaughter innocent people.

“I never did,” his mother scoffs, pulling away to examine his face. “I always knew _my_ baby boy is the best warrior this wretched kingdom doesn't deserve.”

“ _Okaa-san_ _._ ”

His father thumps his back repeatedly, bragging about the tradition of Kuroo men learning Animal Metamorphosis. “Bet it saved your scrawny ass many times, didn't it, son?”

“Sure did. And my ass isn't scrawny, thank you very much. I think it’s nice and round, much like a peach." 

His father cackles with uproarious laughter, his demeanour a complete 180 from that of when Kuroo was about to leave for war, while his mother just sighs something about Kuroo inheriting his father’s unfortunate sense of humour.

Kuroo hesitantly approaches Hibiki. His face is still unreadable—and unlike Kenma’s unreadable expressions, his doesn't let anything through any cracks. There aren't even _any_ cracks, as far as Kuroo can see. He silently despairs underneath his winning smile. Will his brother forever be a stranger to him?

Then Hibiki wraps him in a fierce, unyielding hug. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. Kuroo gets it. He ruffles Hibiki’s hair—light brown and neat, like their mother’s and unlike Kuroo’s.

But he surprises Kuroo even more when he eventually does say something. It’s short and simple, but just hearing his brother say it makes Kuroo tear up.

“Glad you're home, nii-san.”

Kuroo lets a tear slide down his face and fall into Hibiki’s hair. “I'm glad too.”

They stand there for a while, just hugging and desperately trying not to cry. He's relieved, so relieved, that he was fortunate enough to see them once more.

As much as Kuroo would like to stay with Hibiki and hear everything else he wants to say but can't bring himself to voice aloud, he still has someone else he wants to see.

He breaks away from the hug. “I'm just going to see Kenma. I’ll be back for dinner.”

His mother snorts. “You spent five dreadful days at war—I’m grounding you if you're _not_ back for dinner.”

“ _Okaa-san_ _._ ”

 

* * *

 

“I should board up my windows.”

“Don't be like that, kitten,” Kuroo drawls. “I just came back from war. I was expecting a warmer and more emotional welcome.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, as he always does with Kuroo. It’s an endearing habit. (And the fact that he finds it endearing is a tribute to how well and truly whipped Kenma has him.) “I knew you were going to come back. I knew, and so all I had to was wait.”

“How could you be so sure?” Kuroo himself spent five long days never feeling safe enough to be sure he would live long enough to see the next day, let alone see his family and boyfriend again.

“Because you promised. And you've never gone back on your promises before.”

Kuroo smiles. In spite of all the pain, he smiles. He pulls Kenma into a kiss, his hands snaking down to grasp his waist and lift him on to his lap. Surprised, Kenma hastily grabs Kuroo’s shoulders to keep his balance before relaxing into the kiss. Kuroo savours it—every touch, every sensation, every heartbeat of Kenma’s he can feel against his chest. He savours it all, because just a day ago he wasn't sure if he would ever feel it again.

“So…” Kenma says awkwardly, once they've broken off the kiss. “Do you… do you regret it?”

Although his question is ambiguous, Kuroo knows what he's asking. “I… Kenma, I'm not sure what bullshit cover-up the military told you guys, but it’s not true. They…” His voice falters. He knows what he's about to tell Kenma will make him look like a monster. He doesn't want Kenma to think him a monster. But he sees the curious look in Kenma’s eyes, and he knows he has to say it or forever hold his peace. “The king and queen’s orders were to kill _everyone_. Not just the soldiers. The _civilians_ too. When the officers broke the news, so many people wanted out. Nobody wanted to participate, not if it meant murdering innocent people. Oikawa Tooru from Seijoh—he actually spoke up about it. But the bastard colonel blackmailed him. He threatened to kill his boyfriend back home if he didn't comply. The poor guy. I thought he was about to shatter, there and then. And it wasn't just him. The officers threatened to kill the loved ones of anyone who didn't follow their orders. I was terrified, love. I was terrified they put a mark on you, or my parents, or my brother. I could barely sleep with the thought that you could die any moment not because of Kitagawa Daiichi’s army, but because of _this_ country’s military.”

As he says this, he realises how truly fucked up everything is. He wants to cry, or puke, whichever comes first. But Kenma’s grip around him tightens, and his tensed body relaxes.

“Kenma, would you still love me if I killed innocent people?”

The question dangles on a taut, fragile string between them. Kenma’s eyes search his carefully, like he can see right into Kuroo’s soul. Kenma’s gaze always has this effect on him, but this is the first time it makes him scared.

“Yes, because I know you would never do something like that unless you were forced to.”

“But let’s just say I _do_ —”

“ _No_ ,” Kenma interrupts with a rare fierceness. “You won't, and that's all. I refuse to entertain anything else. You won't, because I know you, Kuro. You're a good person. Aggravatingly corny at times, but still a good person. You know what's right and wrong; you know protecting the people you love is right, and you know that murdering innocent people is wrong, and you will strive to always do what's right. So don't you dare give me any other crap, or I will seriously consider boarding up my windows.”

A laugh rocks through Kuroo's body. The sensation feels foreign. Has it really only been five days? It feels like an entire lifetime has passed by without him realising.

“That's the first time I heard you put so much passion into a speech,” he teases. “If that's what happens every time I risk my life, I should throw myself into danger every time.”

“Dork.”

But Kenma kisses him again, and Kuroo all but melts there.

“Just so we’re on the same page, _did_ you actually kill innocent people?” Kenma asks. “It won't change anything, but I’d just like to know.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “Nope, thank god. My unit was assigned to an area that was populated mostly by soldiers. Others weren't so lucky. The stuff I heard and saw…” He shudders at the memory.

“Kuro, I can undo the spell, you know. In fact, I can wipe the memories away. Memory Alteration is a lot easier than Memory Preservation, strangely enough.”

And that—well, Kuroo finds that extremely tempting. Everything he saw and heard—he knows it’s going to haunt him for a long time. He knows it will haunt him in his dreams, every time he sees a weapon, every time he sees his warrior uniform. He knows he is going to have to live with the knowledge and guilt that he killed people. Sure, they were enemy soldiers and not civilians, but still. They were still _people_.

So many times, over the course of just five days, he wanted to die. He couldn't stand living with the guilt, as well as the _fear_ , weighing his soul down, threatening to crush it. He could barely live with having to sleep with one eye open every night to make sure his teammates could sleep safely. Even right now, he can hardly stand the overwhelming fear that he might just _die_ at any moment lurking in the corner of his mind. It's like the danger is everywhere he goes, lurking in every nook and cranny and just waiting to pounce. He wants to up and run away, and keep running until the exhaustion kills him. He almost wishes this danger would actually find him and kill him, just to put him out of his misery of remembering and fearing.

But he stayed alive for Kenma. Every time the thought of death crossed his mind, the mental image of Kenma’s face pressed against his chest overlaps it, shining so brightly it forces the thought to hide. He doesn't want to forget the warmth and strength surging through him whenever Kenma came to mind. And he doesn't want to forget how much he needed and still needs Kenma.

“Thanks for the offer. But no thanks. I… I can live with it. I _want_ to live with it.”

Kenma peers at him uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Yep, I promise.”

To keep his loved ones safe, he was willing to sacrifice his freedom. But not his soul. The kingdom's military made a valiant attempt, but _nobody_ can break his soul, not when it's kept safe in the gentle precise hands of his soulmate, one Kozume Kenma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before i read chapter 318, so there's some inconsistencies between kuroo's family here and his canon family.


	2. don't baby me, nee-chan!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noya is befell by a cold. Haruka takes care of him.

Noya has a problem—it has come in the form of his nose that won't stop leaking, his teary eyes (no, he is _not_ crying), his painfully sore throat and his burning-up body. On one hand, this means he doesn't have to do reports, and Noya would never say no to any excuse to not do any work. On the other hand, this means he can't play volleyball or kiss Asahi, because he doesn't want to spread his cold to his boyfriend.

“I don't get why I have to suffer like this,” he grumbles, then winces as his throat screams at the strain of speaking. He's tucked snugly under the covers with a cool washcloth on his hot forehead, feeling absolutely wretched. “Can't Suga just fly here and work his magic on me?”

“You _know_ that's not good for you,” Daichi says disapprovingly.

Unfortunately, Noya can see why. Suga has explained it before: if he uses his healing magic on you too much, your body would become dependent on healing from his magic instead of healing itself. That's why Suga only used his healing magic on serious injuries, like stab wounds and broken bones, but he let the bruises Noya had sustained from his seduction of Fujinuma heal on their own.

Still, just because he can see reason doesn't mean he has to _like_ the reason. He lets out another pathetic whine. If his body didn't ache so badly, he’d be thrashing about to express his deep displeasure. Well, he wouldn't _be_ in this situation in the first place.

And he hardly ever gets sick anyway. This has to be, like, the fifth time Noya has ever gotten a cold in his whole life. He's as healthy as an ox. That's why he thought it would be a good idea to play volleyball in the rain with Shouyou and Kageyama, despite exasperated warnings from Daichi.

This sucks. Everything sucks, he decides miserably.

“Yuu!”

Noya finishes blowing his nose into a tissue— _gross_ —before weakly calling out, “Come in.”

Haruka saunters in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. She kicks the door shut behind her.

“Nee-chan, what are you doing here?” Noya asks hoarsely.

“To see you, of course, dummy!” Haruka answers, cheery as ever. She places the bowl down on a small makeshift table beside Noya’s bed, quickly ties her hair up into a ponytail, and plops down on a chair next to the bed.

“You could fall sick, too. Daichi says this room is brimming with germs.”

“I won't,” Haruka declares firmly. “I won't let myself get sick, or else Chika-chan would be like, ‘I told you so’, and that would mean he's _won_ and I can't have that.”

Noya figures this must be a product of another disagreement between his sister and her bodyguard/boyfriend (huh, he just realised they're _both_ attracted to their respective bodyguards), so he doesn't question that further. As much as he supports them, he really doesn't need to know the tiny details of their relationship.

“Er, don't you have, like, stuff to do?” he asks. “I mean, you're the queen. Surely you have more important things you need to be doing now.”

Haruka hums as she scoops up some soup and stuffs the spoon into Noya’s mouth without any warning. He chokes, barely able to swallow down the scalding hot chicken soup. (She may have good intentions, but she _really_ needs to work on her bedside manner. Noya thinks it’s a good thing she's the queen and not a nurse.) “Nothing is more important to me than my baby brother. So I've taken the day off from being the queen to be a big sister. I'm sure the governors can keep the country from crashing and burning for just one day without me around, or I wouldn't have kept them around.”

Noya glances away, pleased but also embarrassed. “Don't baby me, nee-chan.”

“Ah, you always got flustered so easily,” Haruka says fondly. Then something in her tone shifts into something more somber, maybe even sad. “And also because… well, I feel somewhat responsible.”

“Huh?” He’s pretty sure it wasn't his nee-chan’s idea to play in the rain yesterday.

“I was the one who sent you out there in the first place,” she elaborates with a bitter, self-loathing chuckle. “I forced you out there in the real world, on your own, with no way to take care of you, or even of knowing for sure you were okay. And you went through so much, Yuu. You were traumatised, you witnessed something that night no one should _ever_ have to see—and I couldn't protect you. And then you got hurt when you were out there, you could have _died_ , and I wasn't there—I couldn't—” Her voice cracks towards the end of her sentence. Noya isn't sure if he's ever seen his big sister so… so fragile.

“Nee-chan,” he manages to force out, despite the feeling like his vocal chords might snap from the exertion. “You couldn't have known. None of us could have known what was going to happen. You can't keep blaming yourself.” Because that's what he learned from his journey—that he isn't responsible for _every_ single bad thing that happens, that he can't blame himself for things he couldn't have seen coming or controlled. And now, it's time to tell his nee-chan that. “And we’re okay now. I—we— _everyone_ could've died, but the fact is that we _didn't_. I'm fine, nee-chan—well, mostly.” He sneezes promptly after finishing that sentence.

“Aww, since when did you become so wise, Yuu?” she teases, pinching his cheek. He whines in response.

“Maybe I've always been this wise.” He sulks.

“Sure you are,” Haruka says mildly. She shoves the spoon into his mouth, cutting off any retort he might have had. “Drink your soup, young man, it’ll help you recover faster.”

“Don't baby me, nee-chan.”

But he drinks the soup anyway, because heck, it feels nice to be taken care of again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might or might not have written this while having a cold and feeling utterly miserable.

**Author's Note:**

> updates will be a sporadic as it'll be based on the amount of inspiration and ideas i have, and i have other fics to work on too. i'm open to requests! you can leave requests in a comment or (preferably) in my [tumblr ask box.](https://hqissodelicate.tumblr.com/ask) if you're going to send a request on tumblr, please indicate somewhere that it's for the BCCO/Prince Noya-verse. thank you for reading!


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